Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Somalia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Terry Callier to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Moon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television Personalities record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Yellowson,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Kenny Larkin,
The Move,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Erykah Badu,
Sun Ra,
Lightning Bolt,
Janne Schatter,
X-101,
Royal Trux,
Chris & Cosey,
Buzzcocks,
Main Source,
Quantec,
The Young Rascals,
Carl Craig,
Niagra,
Ultravox,
The Real Kids,
The Smiths,
Monolake,
Second Layer,
Bobby Womack,
Scratch Acid,
In Retrospect,
Skarface,
The Sonics,
Sixth Finger,
Ohio Players,
Lindisfarne,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Au Pairs,
Saccharine Trust,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Los Fastidios,
Eric B and Rakim,
Masters at Work,
Deadbeat,
Rites of Spring,
Spandau Ballet,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Blackbyrds,
Kas Product,
Cluster,
Jesper Dahlback,
KRS-One,
The Index,
Desert Stars,
Tubeway Army,
Gregory Isaacs,
Urselle,
Grauzone,
The Music Machine,
Black Sheep,
Silicon Teens,
Outsiders,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Newcleus,
The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.